Time Essay: The New Yorker Turns Fifty

It was a supercilious, Oscar Wilde face, with a nose that richly
deserved tweaking. It adorned a new publication called The New Yorker,
and the smart money said of face and magazine, as Dorothy Parker had
once said of a pair of amorous gorillas: "I give them six months."

Half a century later, the smart money has vanished into depressed stocks
and inflated currency. And The New Yorker has survivedno, flourished.
The upstart has become an establishment, the iconoclast an institution.
In his anniversary thesaurus of anecdotes, Here at The New Yorker
(TIME, Feb....